Merry Christmas Mr Callen
by Fernside
Summary: Christmas day was not what Callen expected.
1. Chapter 1

Merry Christmas Mr Callen

(The Christmas Party)

Deeks: What's your plan for tomorrow?

Callen: Get up and have breakfast. Rest, read a book, then have lunch and visit Sam. Go home have a nap. Get up, have dinner and then go back to bed.

Deeks: So action packed day.

Callen: Yep

Callen's attention was focused on the fire engine that blocked the road. He had two options, reversing then driving around the block or parking and walking. He was five houses from home. Callen grabbed an empty space to park, locked the car and started walking.

'Not my house, thought Callen.

He walked past people gathered in little huddles, drawn to the excitement. The chilly night hadn't deterred many. Callen recognized a few nodding neighbourhood acquaintances.

He paused as two firemen walked down the drive carrying fire extinguishers no longer required. Just another call out.

Callen scanned the crowd from habit, looking for someone or something out of the ordinary. The flashing light destroyed his night vision but nothing drew his attention or tickled his sense of danger. But Callen wasn't at his peak mentally. Not after Hetty's Christmas nibbles and drinks. Not drunk but not completely sober either.

Accidents happen he thought. Even in my quite neighbourhood.

He felt the tension in his shoulders and neck. It had been a long day, hell a long week to get cases cleared before Christmas. Who cared except Hetty? It was all a numbers game of cases cleared in a given year, within time and on budget. The files would just sit on some JAG's desk, probably unseen until well into the New Year.

The Wade and Ruth clutched each other in the flickering red light. A third person with a clipboard went through the motions, collected a signature then walked away after handing a copy to Wade.

Did they need help? Maybe he should cross the road and speak to them and offer comfort? It was Xmas eve and Callen really didn't feel like finding solutions to any more problems. The house was standing and no one had been taken away by ambulance or funeral director. Everything else could wait until morning.

"Come on folks," called the cop, "back to bed, excitement over for the night." People began to disperse with a final look over their shoulders.

"Does this mean Santa isn't coming?" a child's tired voice echoed across the quite.

Callen glanced to the left and spotted the Harpers. Dad worked in a bank, mum a part time secretary at the accountants on Vine. Three kids, second marriage and they changed their car to a blue Honda six weeks ago.

"Sshh," the child was picked up and carried, "no silly, this just means Santa can't come until you are asleep in bed." The family walked away.

Callen could not remember ever being that innocent, that trusting. He remembered Santa had died a painful death his first Christmas in a group home. He remembered the good days and the bad days until Christmas finally become just another day.

The fire engine switched off its lights, then pulled away from the curb in a slow experienced manner. The policeman checked the neighbourhood was returning to its original sleepy state then headed for his car, already focused on the next call out.

A few people stayed on the sidewalk watching the last moments of the drama.

"What happened," Callen said to a man standing nearby. Mr Hong, new immigrant, previously lived in a down town apartment, wife unemployed, no visitors, car green.

"Don't know. Someone said they came home from church and found the house on fire. She probably left a candle burning." He shrugged. "It happens a lot this time of year."

Mr Hong moved away leaving Callen alone. He stared at the house but the darkness and trees hid any hint of damage. Not even the smell of smoke. It was too late to offer comfort the driveway was now empty. He was no good at it anyway.

Tomorrow, thought Callen as he collected his car. Tomorrow I'll say sorry, offer sympathy and ask some questions. Maybe check the fire investigators report. In his experience, arson was a great cover for murder.

Callen's house was bare of blinking lights inside and out, of Christmas decorations and a general feeling of ho, ho, ho. If Santa turned up he was likely to get shot on the spot and wouldn't that just ruin the lives of the kids on the block.

Callen carried two bags to the kitchen and placed them on the bench. A careful check confirmed no intruder had disturbed the house during his absence. Back in the kitchen he made himself a cup of coffee and examined his gifts.

One bag held two towels, a bottle of whisky, gift vouchers, chocolates, and a pottery bowl. A couple of DVD's, more chocolate, a framed picture of a goat and some fruit preserves were removed from the second bag. He divided his pile into eatable, usable and the useless.

Callen took a sip of his coffee and watched the hands of the clock slip past twelve officially making it Christmas Day.

Christmas Eve was Callen's favourite day of the year and now it was over. There was the party, the gifts and the excitement of something special to come. People were generally happy. But Christmas day never lived up to expectations. In Callen's life the day normally ended in agreements, tears and disappointment.

"Merry Christmas everybody," he called aloud. The words got absorbed by the silent emptiness of the house.

He finished his coffee. A look in the fridge revealed nothing that tugged the attention of his stomach. Callen considered the chocolates and whiskey but rejected the idea. He was the backup to the emergency phone when someone ended up dead in the next 24 hours. The only reason he wasn't primary contact was Clyde wanted the extra leave in the New Year to be with his kids. Hetty had put her foot down, Callen had taken the emergency phone three years running and the responsibility had to be spread around.

Callen tried to remember how much he had drunk. The chances of being called out were slim but Hetty would be pissed if he lost his licence in a random breath test. Sods law. So, no whiskey until later.

This year he had purchased seven work gifts, eight boxes of chocolates, four supermarket vouchers and a personal gift each for Sam, Quinn and Emma. The last three gifts, wrapped in blue reindeer paper, sat on the side table ready for delivery to the Hanna family. Callen never worked out how Sam managed to get two gifts, the work one and the private one, when he only got one in return.

Only three left, everything else had been given out with hugs and smiles. The false Christmas cheer made easier with alcohol. Callen didn't need Nate to tell him he had a problem with the receiving of gifts and not the giving. He put it down to too much do false charity in his young life.

But honestly he didn't get the goat. Deeks had placed the gift in his hand, muttered something before Kenzie hit him with a water pistol and they both took off running. Callen wondered if it was some type of gag gift only he didn't get the joke. Maybe the picture was just a picture. Still overall not a bad haul.

The fire left Callen feeling restless. The two houses were close but accidents rarely happened in Callen's experience. Maybe the only accident was the wrong house. His previous solution to any problem was to pack up moved hotels. Kind of hard at 1.00 am on Christmas morning. The inns were closed and the hotels full. That left the beach or Sam's. But Sam had his own family and the beach was a temptation Callen was trying hard to break. He knew the party spots in town where the action hummed 24/7 but he honestly didn't need the company.

The coffee was hot, the room silent. No merry Christmas, no one asking about his holiday plans and no one discussing gifts and shopping. And best of all no one singing. Callen could finally sit down and relax. Within twenty four hours the whole holiday would be over for another year and things would get back to normal.

A glance out the windows revealed everything was quiet. Even the Santa and his reindeer across the street had been turned off for the night. Everyone with any sense was tucked up in bed asleep.

Christmas was just another day and Callen had seventy two hours off rotation. With a sigh he picked up a DVD, slid it into the hard drive and waited for the opening scene from Star Wars to light up the screen.

At the sound of the ring tone Callen reached over and grabbed the phone. "Hello?" Nothing, just the dial tone, Callen frowned. Not the phone then he thought, a quick check of his cell phone showed a lack of any emergency summons into work. A couple of drunken merry Christmas's were deleted with a smile. The door bell rang again catching his attention.

Callen's hand automatically slid under the pillow and touched the gun. Reassured, he slid out of bed and put on some jeans. Normally he would have been up but Christmas Day was late to bed and late to rise. Truth be told, Star Wars had gripped his attention longer than he thought possible.

His colleges knew to phone before turning up on his door step unless it was beyond urgent.

He picked up the newly cleaned gun and slid it into his waistband. He felt more dressed with the gun than a shirt. Just because the son of God was born today didn't mean the Grimm reaper had a holiday.

A quick peek thru the curtain showed a man standing at the door and some woman lurking near the street. Callen recognised Ruth, Wade's partner, which probably made Wade the one standing at the door. Undecided about their strange behaviour he put on his happy face and opened the door with care. He kept the gun in his hand out of sight and the chain on. It was no use scaring the neighbours.

"Hi, there has been an accident. Can we use your kitchen?"


	2. Chapter 2

Accident, Sam, Hetty, who? Callen blinked and realised if any of the team had been involved in an accident, Wade would not be the person breaking the news. The first point of contact was his phone and no messages had been received. He breathed deeply to release his tension. "Accident?"

"Yeah, someone burnt our kitchen down. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent."

"Morning Wade," said Callen remembering the fire. "Sorry about the house."

"Merry Christmas G," Wade grinned. "The kitchen," he said as a gentle reminder.

Right, Wade wanted Callen's kitchen. Christmas day was all about peace, love and understanding. Callen didn't have many friends but his jogging buddy was a friendship worth the cultivation. Nate kept telling him neighbourhoods ran to a different rhythm so Callen decided to take a chance and show a little trust. If it turned out wrong, he was going to be really pissed. "Sure, why not, come in." He closed the door, flipped the chain off then opened the door wider, gun still in hand hidden out of sight.

"Thanks Callen, I owe you big time." Wade turned and yelled, "Ruth, get over here, he said yes."

Callen watched Ruth walk warily down the path towards his front door. "Morning Ruth."

"Good morning Callen. I'm sorry for waking you so early." She had a look on her face that said she was trying to be polite and that prissy sound in her voice that said the boss was busy. But Wade and Ruth came as a packaged set otherwise the woman wouldn't be tolerated across his threshold.

Callen glanced at his watch and noticed it was only 8.06 am. "No problem, the kitchens through that way." He stood aside to allow Ruth past, closed the door and pointed.

Ruth scrutinized the room before she headed in the direction of the pointed finger. Wade gave her a quick hug on the way past. "Love you babe, it's going to be alright." Ruth nodded and disappeared.

"What's this about Wade?" said Callen. He had the impression his house had just failed some inspection, and really, who cared if Ruth was disappointed.

"Do you have plans for today? I know you said you didn't, but you know," Wade shrugged his shoulders but his tone was serious and he looked tired.

"Go over to Sam's. I've might have to disappear if the phone rings, but otherwise no."

"Like I said, some idiot at the party last night set fire to the kitchen. Smoke damage, water damage and the outcome is, the kitchen is ruined." Wade ran his hand thru his hair.

"I saw the fire engine when I arrived home."

"Yeah wasn't that something, the whole neighbourhood was out looking." Wade grinned then looked around the sitting room. "The cleaning service cost a fortune but I need a new stove. No stove means Ruth can't cook Christmas dinner at our place. A lot of yelling, lots of tears and a lot of silence. I'm surprised you didn't hear it from here."

Callen shook his head but Wade didn't need a response.

"Long story short, at six this morning I had the bright idea to use your house. It's close by with a big kitchen not being used. I said I would ask. So this is me asking, can I borrow your house for the day."

"House?" Callen was fine with the use of his stove, but the house, the whole house. Even Sam didn't trespass on his personal space.

When he purchased the house Sam presented Callen with six months worth of crime statistics for the area. Callen had been pleasantly surprised. He had lived in far more violent neighbourhoods. In the same time period, Sam's block had reported two shootings and one serious drug bust. Sam may laugh but Sam understood his paranoia. Nutty neighbours had not been included in the police statistics.

"I know it's a lot to ask but I thought we could eat here instead of carrying all the food back to our place.

"I..."  
There will be just us and five friends, and anyone you want to ask of course. You won't need to supply anything. Trust me, food we have. We just have to carry it across. I'll even arrange for professional cleaners tomorrow. Please, it would mean a lot to Ruth."

What would Sam say, thought Callen. Sam would say yes, Deeks would side with Sam. Kenzie would give him a 'what the fuck' look. Callen closed his eyes feeling the pressure. "Fine, you can have the house but I want a list of names and addresses of everyone invited."

"What are you going to do, check them out? Shit, you are aren't you? You are doing to check them through some data base, wow, that's like, damn."

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"No, just don't tell Ruth OK." Wade grinned, ""Thanks man, you saved my marriage."

"Wade, you aren't married."

"Future marriage then," Wade caught sight of Ruth. "Hi sweetie, decision?"

Returning to the sitting room Ruth took a deep breath and smiled, "Xmas is back on. Go get the boxes." Ruth turned her attention to Callen. "Is there any one you want to invite."

"I don't have any family."

"Trust me, family aren't all that great. Feel free to invite a friend, we have plenty of food."

"They have plans elsewhere."

"Even better, they won't come but at least you offered," said Wade. "It's all about the invite isn't it sweetie."

"If you think of someone," said Ruth. "Tell them we eat at 6.30. Tell them to bring a chair and drink. Wade." She stared hard at her partner.

"What? Right," Wade found his wallet and pulled out a handful of bills. "For the inconvenience," he said trying to hand the money across.

The offer stung. "I don't need money."

"Yes you do," Ruth took the money from Wade. "The only thing this moron understands is money so take it and make him suffer."

Callen and Ruth stared at each other. Callen dealt regularly with the hardcore military but he was starting to feel like a seven year old. Realising she might not win, Ruth opened a drawer and dumped in the cash. "Don't you dare give it back."

"Hey, where's your Christmas tree?" said Wade breaking the tension.

"I don't have one. I was working," Callen added. Christmas was for kids hence he didn't need a tree.

"Take Callen over to our place and get a tree. And don't forget the decorations." Ruth headed back to the kitchen having won the skirmish.

"Come on."

"I'm not dressed," said Callen.

Wade grinned. "Trust me; Ruth noticed that little Christmas bonus. But it made her smile, and after a night of weeping I don't give a damn. But grab a shirt tough guy, it's nippy outside and you might want to cover that gun."

Feeling self conscious Callen went to the bedroom and grabbed a sweater. On the way back he did a quick check for weapons. He also made sure his laptop and any documents were securely locked away. He trusted Ruth but most people were just plain nosy given half the chance.

Callen followed Wade across the road. The smell of smoke lingered as Wade led the way down the hall. On the kitchen table stood cardboard boxes, some empty some not.

"Ruth's been packing since seven this morning. Don't get me wrong, we have friends, good friends. When word got out about the fire they rang and offered their houses." He opened the fridge and started packing food into one of the boxes. "But Ruth said no, that everything was just fine. Then she cried and I remembered my good buddy across the road."

"How did it start?" Callen opened the stove door and peered in.

"Fire investigator said an element was left on." Wade took a pad and pen from the fridge and started writing names and addresses.

"Anything strange about that?" The stove was a write off and the wall was covered in burn marks and smoke damage that someone had tried to remove..

"Ruth swears she turned it off." Wade caught the strange look on Callen's face. "What you think someone tried to burn the house down?"  
"Maybe?"

"That's just stupid. Look if I wanted to start a fire it would be easier to put lighter fluid and a cigarette on the couch, or a candle next to a curtain. Not burn the kitchen down, that's just brainless."

Callen stared at Wade. How did the man know these things? "Don't mess up my house and I know where you live."

Wade ripped off the page and handed it to Callen who slid it into a pocket after a quick glance.

"Come on we need a tree." Wade led the way back to the garage. "Look Ruth is my problem but don't make her feel guilty. I know she had you arrested but it won't hurt you to turn up for part of the day." Wade led Callen to a pile of boxes and pulled out one marked Xmas tree in black felt.

Callen picked up the box and Wade put another smaller one on top, decorations he said. Back in the kitchen Wade picked up a box of food, a box of serving dishes and gave the fry pan to Callen to carry back.

"Betty rang. She said she would ring back," said Ruth taking a box from Wade and placing it on the bench."

"Who?"

"Betty, I said you were getting a Christmas tree. She sounded surprised, kept saying Henry ate her, but didn't say what he ate. Is it of some kind of spy code?" she started emptying the box of bacon, eggs and plastic containers.

"No," said Callen to Ruth's disappointment. "I don't know a Betty."

"Then your cell phone rang but I thought it rude to answer."

Callen frowned and reached for his phone. It wasn't there. Not in his pocket, not ... Ruth pointed towards the bench. He grabbed the phone and scrolled thru the messages. Nothing urgent, only Hetty, shit, he walked to his bedroom and struck redial.

"Mr Callen, any problems I should know about?" answered Hetty.

"No problems, sorry I missed your call."

"I understand you were busy with a tree of all things. I just rang to say merry Christmas Mr Callen. Imagine my surprise when a woman answered the phone."

"Ruth's a neighbour. I said she could cook dinner here."

"At your place? Well, I won't keep you, I'm sure you are very busy."

"Dinners at 6.30, if you would you like to come?" he cringed as the words popped out of his mouth. Please say no, he thought. Please have a prior engagement.

"It's rather short notice, who else have you invited?"

Callen's mind went blank. "Ruth and Wade, and people."

"People." There was silence for a few seconds which seemed to stretch out for years. "I'm sure we could call in for a few minutes though I do have other arrangements."

"We?"  
"I do have friends Mr Callen," said Hetty. "What do you suggest I bring."

"A chair," said Callen feeling the day was slipping out of his control. He had gone from inviting one person to inviting more than one. Did he even know Hetty's friend. "I don't know, bring drinks or something." He had no idea what Ruth was cooking for dinner, he hadn't asked. "It's a sort of a pot luck."

Hetty seemed taken aback. "A pot luck Christmas, at your house, with people."

Had Callen broken some rule of Christmas etiquette? At work, even undercover, he knew the rules, what was expected and the part he played. But outside of work was a minefield of personal boundaries and emotions he still struggled to master.

"Look if you don't want to come, just say so."

"I didn't say I wouldn't come Mr Callen, I just meant it was very sudden invitation, even unexpected. Still plans must be flexible. I'll look in the fridge. There is bound to be something eatable and a chair of course."

Callen said his goodbyes and disconnected the phone. The total had increased by two. He prayed for an emergency call out. Couldn't some sailor manage to get himself stabbed to death in questionable circumstances?


	3. Chapter 3

I'm sorry it has taken me three chapters to realise that editing and double spacing between paragraphs doesn't work on this site. Therefore I have deleted and readded this chapter. Thanks for reading and the comments.

"""""""""""""""""

Callen grabbed a towel and headed for the shower. The gun he put in easy reach. His knife he placed on the soap dish, an old habit when naked. The hot water ran down his back in a nice steady stream. He breathed deep to let his muscles loosen and the tensions melt away. Maybe this day would not be so bad after all. He reached over for the shampoo.

The day was not a complete loss. He would go over to Sam's, hang out for awhile then head for the beach. Come home after five in plenty of time to greet Hetty. After she left, if the party was a loss, he would fake a phone call. Yeah, he had a plan.

The cold water was a shock.

Somebody had turned on the bloody hot tap in the kitchen and stole his water. How could he forget? Alina Rostoff had thought it funny. His almost adopted sister remembered lukewarm showers in a frozen winter with ice on the inside of the windows. She laughed at the American boy who complained about cold water in warm LA. Her voice lecturing about Father Frost and Sister Snow floated thru his mind with a fuzzy picture of her smiling parents until the hot water once more pounded against his body. The oasis of happiness during a few short months of childhood still held its grip. The memories hurt.

A tap on the door, "breakfast in ten," the words broke Callen's introspection.

Callen finished washing, wrapped a towel around his hips and headed to his bedroom. He was a well respected, very capable adult. He was ex DEA, ex CIA and currently a senior agent in NCIS. He was not a scarred suspicious child entering a new house. Ruth was not his foster parent. This was his house and he would walk the halls wrapped in a towel if he damn well wanted to. The gun and knife were wrapped in his clothes, out of sight within easy reach. The aroma of bacon and mushroom in the hallway made his mouth water.

He opened the wardrobe door and stared at the words Callen, 14. Carved above those historic words was Callen 37. His fingers traced the groves in the wood. He had never caved two dates into one door, never stayed long enough. Most people imprinted their personality on the house with furniture and paint but he wasn't most people. Callen was still coming to terms with the idea of permanent. The same address, the same phone number and the same place to call home. His first Christmas in the house, would he live long enough to see another?

Callen grabbed a shirt and closed the door. It was Christmas day and he was becoming gloomy.

""""""""""""

Five minutes later he made his way to the kitchen dressed in a fresh shirt and jeans. The room was no longer clean and sterile. Pots were in the sink, pans on the stove and food on plates. There was pancakes, eggs, honey cured bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. And toast.

"Help yourself," said Ruth handing him a plate.

Callen's mouth watered as he took the plate and started filling it up. Was it really only just after nine?

Joy to the world he thought shaking off the gloom. Deep down Ruth was a wonderful person, this was better than leftover KFC. Cold water between friends could be forgiven. Maybe dinner wouldn't be so bad. If this was how Ruth cooked Callen's stomach was happy to return for a repeat performance.

"Wine?" said Ruth but Callen shook his head. "Or there is beer if you want."

"Coffee is fine," he said reaching for a cup. He poured the brew and actually inhaled the aroma. "This isn't my usual stuff."

"It's a special Christmas blend we picked up at the market. Wade doesn't like it," said Ruth.

"I didn't say I didn't like it, I said it wasn't my favourite." Wade dumped some pancakes on his plate and reached for the bacon.

"No, trust me it's great." Callen grabbed a seat at the table and started eating. He used his toast to wipe up the last of the egg, thinking about seconds before he noticed the others were still only half way through their meals. He tried to slow down but in two bites his plate was clean.

"Help yourself to seconds," said Ruth. "When do you need to be at your friends?"

Callen sipped his coffee. "Around one, I will probably leave around twelve or earlier depending on traffic. Hetty's coming tonight with a friend for drinks. She can't stay for dinner."

"What does she do, or shouldn't I ask?" Ruth took a slip of her wine.

"Err," how do you describe Hetty? "She's our admin person."

"Great, we'll have something to talk about." Ruth eyes sparkled.

Callen had forgotten that Ruth was personal assistant for some doctor at the university, damn.

"Do you want lunch before you go?"

"Err." Lunch, he was still eating breakfast. He glanced at the food going cold on the counter. "No, don't worry about lunch. I'll be fine." Callen stood to get seconds and found Wade at his elbow. They battled for the tongs and Callen won. He placed a small piece of bacon onto Wade's plate and heaped a pile onto his own leaving a few strands for Ruth to be polite. He added mushroom and toast before returning to his seat.

Ruth talked about the plans for the evening, the people coming, the food and the drink. Wade chipped in with his own comments. Callen let the words flow over him. It didn't make a difference to Callen; he had a different evening planned altogether. A faked emergency call was high on the agenda. He picked up his empty plate and put it into the dishwasher. He poured another cup of coffee and started filling the sink with water. Ruth picked up a tea towel and handed another one to Wade. It didn't take long before the clean pans and serving dishes were stacked to the side.

"Finished? Great, let's go put up the tree," said Wade.

The trio walked into the lounge, Callen grabbed the box as Ruth and Wade started to walk around looking for the best spot.

"Here," they both said standing in different parts of the room. A discussion commenced before they both prowled the room again. Callen got the box untied and pulled out the plastic branches. It didn't take long to figure out how it went together. When the tree ready he waited a few minutes in silence not adding to the discussions. He looked at the room, considered the flow of people and where the table was likely to go. After about five minutes he picked up the tree, carried it to a corner and placed it down. No one noticed. Callen got the decorations box, carried it across to the tree and opened it. The box was only half full with the left over decorations. Callen pulled out a blue ball.

"There are no lights," said Wade poking in the box. As Callen and Wade started placing the decorations Ruth went back to the kitchen. The sound of the food processer was heard and the smell of onion, apple and herbs scented the air. There weren't enough decorations to cover the tree, it looked a bit lonely and lost but that was OK by Callen. It reminded him of some of the trees in the homes where the foster parents had made an effort. The smell of the food reminded him of the better times.

Callen walked into the kitchen, "do we have any table cloths?"

"I don't know," said Ruth. "It's your house. Why do you want one?"

"When I was young, one house used to put a red table cloth around the base of the tree." He lifted the tea towel from the bowl and stared at a large amount of stuffing. It tasted good even uncooked. It was a stupid idea anyway.

"What about a towel? Or go over to our place, we have plenty of tablecloths."

Callen replaced the tea towel and walked to the cupboard in the hallway. The only towels that matched were the new blue ones from Nell. They would have to do. He arranged them around the base of the tree and stood back. It looked better but not perfect. He snagged the teddy bear he kept around for Emma and leaned it against the base of the tree. The tree looked pretty cool. Mission accomplished.

Callen stared at the teddy bear. What was Sam going to say when he found out that Hetty was invited over? It wasn't like he could ask Hetty to keep the visit a secret. Sam wasn't the problem. If he invited Sam he would have to invite the whole family. That meant Michelle and Emma. Three more people plus the two he had already invited, that made five extra people. Plus the current seven, but Sam went to the in-laws every year, so he would say no. But what if he said yes, would Michelle be really pissed. Should he even ask in case it caused a family argument? Or would Sam be hurt if an invitation was not forthcoming? Where were they even going to seat all these people? Callen massaged his temples. The whole situation was giving him a headache.

"Have you seen my presents? They were in a plastic bag on the table?"

"I put them under the tree out of the way," said Ruth.

Callen grunted then went and picked up the bag. "Where's Wade."

"Over at our place."

Damn, thought Callen pulling out a key ring from his pocket. He would have rather given it to Wade because they understood each other but he didn't have time to chase Wade down. "Here's a spare key, don't leave the house without locking up. Don't let in any strangers. And if anything happens my phone number is on the fridge."

"I thought you were coming back?"

"I might get a call out, or I might drink too much at Sam's. But you don't want to spend all day trapped here if I don't make it back on time.

"OK," she said taking the key.

"I'm serious," said Callen.

"Look, I'm not an idiot. I get that you are some sort of secret undercover cop. But I deal with the shit Wade brings into my home all the time. I will not let anything happen to your house. And if something happens beyond my control I promise to ring the police."

"Federal agent," muttered Callen. "I work for NCIS. Navy Criminal Investigative Services," he added at Ruth's blank look.

"Oh a military cop, you mean like Jack Reacher. God I love those books, not sure about the film though. Right do you have everything?"

Callen checked, presents, cell phone, wallet, keys and gun. Spare gun locked in the car. "Yeah, I give you a ring if I can't make it home."

""""""""""""

"Uncle G, uncle G," Emma ran to G, arms outstretched with love in her eyes.

Callen had read countless self-help books and websites to learn how to be the best uncle possible. He was determined never to be one of those creepy uncles of his childhood. As Emma got older Callen adapted his skills. He could read books, watch children's TV and navigate Disneyland. Best of all he talked in languages she would never understand, and told her his secrets and frustrations of the day. Nate was right; it was kind of healthy to tell someone your problems.

"Santa brought me lots of presents. What did you bring me?"

"Emma," growled Michelle. "We had this conversation."

"Yeah Uncle G," said Sam grinning, "what did you bring me?"

Michelle swotted at her husband. "Sam, don't encourage the child." Michelle turned to Callen and offered her cheek for a kiss. "G put the presents on the table, we'll open them later. Grab a seat, would you like a beer?" At Callen's nod she disappeared before coming back with a platter with nuts, chips and dip. She handed the beer to Callen and placed the nibbles on the table. The guacamole had a bite.

G listened to Michelle talk about work and Emma talk about school. After a quick swallow Callen put the beer aside and focused on Emma. Each present from Santa was duly presented for comment and approval. He agreed she was a very lucky grateful child to get each one. At last Michelle decided Emma had waited long enough for Uncle G's present. Sam unwrapped his present to reveal a car part and a promise to help fit it. Michelle got a pamper pack and voucher from the beauty therapy place she frequented.

"You didn't have too," said Michelle her eyes sparkling.

"Yes I did. You deserve it." He smiled aware Michelle took the main parenting role when Sam was on a case. Anyway, he purchased pretty much the same gift every year.

And for Emma, Callen purchased the African American holiday Barbie doll with a pink convertible, plus a pile of colouring books and pencils.

"What do you say young lady?" said Michelle gathering up the torn paper.

"Thank you Uncle G, I love you lots." With a quick kiss and hugs she was off to the bedroom to play with her toys, duty over.

"You spoil her," said Michelle sipping her wine.

"She's a beautiful child, worth spoiling." Callen finished his beer and declined a second. Michelle offered coffee instead.

"What's the matter G?" Sam said as Michelle left the room.

"Nothing." Callen shrugged.

"You've been distracted since you arrived."

"It's nothing."

"It had better be nothing because I don't have time today to chase your bony arse around the city."

Callen knew Sam's family came first. Sam could have any partner he wanted. It was Callen who needed Sam for the partnership to work. "I wanted to know if you wanted to come over."

"Over where?"

Callen stared at Sam. "My place," he said as if it was obvious.

"Just me?"

"Well you, Michelle and Emma, you know, the family."

"Why?"

"It's Christmas I thought you could come over, for dinner," said Callen. "Look forget it, you have plans." Every year the Hanna visited Sam's family in the morning and Michelle's family in the evening, usually staying overnight. Callen carved out five minutes for himself around lunch. He brought presents to give himself a reason to visit.

Michelle came in with another food platter in one hand and a coffee in the other. "What's the matter?" said Michelle passing the cup to G and offering the platter. Callen shook his head wishing he had kept his mouth shut.

"G wants us to visit his place?" Sam gave Michelle the look and shrugged his shoulders.

"Great, we can fit it in tomorrow around twelve," said Michelle sitting down after placing the platter within arm's reach. "Why don't you stay here, sleep on the couch," she said. "With us at mums, the house will be empty and there is plenty of food in the fridge."

Callen stood, crossed his arms and walked to the window. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

"If you wanted us to come over you should have said something yesterday," said Sam in a parental tone. "Now do you want to tell me the real problem?"

"I invited Hetty to dinner," said Callen quietly turning to face the room.

"You did what? When did this happen? Are you out of your tiny mind?"

"It wasn't my fault, Ruth answered the phone so I…"

"Wait, who's Ruth?" Michelle interrupted.

"Wades partner, remember, Callen's 3am jogging buddy," said Sam proving there were few secrets between husband and wife. Sam reached over and grabbed a handful of nuts.

"So she's in your house answering your phone." Michelle perched herself down on the arm of Sam's chair and leaned towards her husband. "Why?"

"They had a fire so she's using my house today."

Michelle sat up straight, "She drove you out of your home on Christmas Day? Who does this bitch think she is?" Michelle stood up and marched towards the bedroom.

"Don't," said Sam stopping Callen's attempt to halt Michelle. "She worries."

"I'm a lead agent; I was one of the best undercover agents in the business. I don't need your wife to solve my problems."

"Like it or not you're family G. Either you let Michelle speak to Ruth on the phone or I'm going to have to drive all the way out to your place to check out the situation. If I'm late to the in-laws you are going to be in trouble for a whole month.

Callen decided to switch tack. "I had plans to go to the beach."

"It's winter," said Sam. "No one goes to the beach in winter."

"It's 60F with possible showers. It could be worse, Washington is 37F with snow."

"Yeah and you stood outside Macy's staring thru the window with your nose pressed against the glass like little orphan Annie."

"I was looking for you, it was dangerous in there."

"Dangerous, you took Emma to visit Santa four times. I used to find you in Santa's grotto."

"There was a cute looking elf and I wasn't happy with Emma's photo."

"That reminds me, we might need a baby sitter for New Year's, you interested?"

Callen wanted to say yes. He owed Sam big time. Maybe being an inbuilt baby sitter was all he was good for. Maybe he should say no so they wouldn't come to rely on the partner with no life. "Sure why not."

"Thanks and don't think I have forgotten about Hetty."

"Maybe if I stop at her house on the way home she won't need to come to my place. Anyway, she doesn't scare me."

"But you invited the spooky ninja elf into your home. Shit, think she heard me say that."

Callen laughed and picked up a small snack from the tray and popped it into his mouth. Two bites later he was clutching his throat trying to breathe. Sam picked up his coffee and handed it over.

"I guess that one had the chilli," said Sam.

Callen drank then blew his nose when Sam handed over the tissues. "You could have warned me." Callen wiped the tears from his eyes.

"After the number of years you have been coming over, I would have thought you would have learned to ask."

Michelle walked back into the room. "I told Ruth she could use the oranges and herbs from your garden," she said as she looked at the plate. "What did you think? I experimented with a new type of chilli this year." She picked up one of the morsels and popped it into her mouth with relish. Callen shuddered.

"Hot."

"Man, why didn't you say you had an orange tree. We could have picked fresh oranges for Michelle's parents."

"I didn't know until I tidied the garden. I think I've found lemon, orange, tangerine and maybe grapefruit. There's lots of stuff." He hadn't thought people would be interested. Gardening was so mundane. He weeded and pruned the over grown foliage to eliminate possible hiding places. The work kept him occupied for a few nights. The neighbour's cat had watched him with suspicious eyes and had twitched its tail in annoyance as sleeping spots were obliterated, one by one.

When he first purchased the house Sam had brought over the family. Michelle walked through and made enthusiastic suggestions about colour and furniture shopping. But nothing came of it. Callen tried to think when Sam had last visited his house for more than a work pickup or drop off. That reminded him.

"Can I borrow a chair," he said. "Maybe two?"

"Sure," said Sam.

"You scratch them, you buy me a whole new set," said Michelle. She walked to the dining room and selected two bearing Emma's teeth marks.

"Deal," said Callen. "Emma, I'm leaving." The sound of running feet could be heard. Emma politely said thank you and good bye, and gave Callen a hug.

"I fine," Callen said and kissed Michelle on the cheek. She stared into his eyes and once more said the couch was free if he needed it. At the car Sam took both chairs and fussed with their placement in the back seat, seeking that military packing perfection which annoyed Callen.

"Damn I forgot." Sam pulled out his phone, punched in some numbers and handed the phone to G.

"Hello?"

"Deeks?" Callen said recognising the voice.

"Yeah?" The voice was hesitant.

"It's Callen," Callen glared at Sam and Sam glared back. Sam signalled him to continue. "I was just wondering if you, ahh, you know, want to come over tonight, for dinner and stuff." Deeks had spent the week telling Kenzie he had no plans for Christmas day much to the amusement of the team.

"Why? I mean..." the voice trailed off.

'Why does everyone ask why, thought Callen as he rubbed his forehead. Because you're a loser and I'm a loser and we have no one else. But he couldn't say that out loud. Sam would punch him. Callen stood tall and pushed his shoulders back. "Look, I'm inviting you to dinner. If you want to come arrive after 6.00, bring a chair, drink and nibbles. If you don't want to come, well it's no big deal."

"No, I want to come, it's just that... Monty will be lonely."

"Alright bring the damn dog, but he's your responsibility. Just tie him up outside." He cut the connection before Deeks had a chance to say anything else. "Happy," Callen glared at Sam.

Sam beamed, "now that wasn't too hard. Want to try one more time."

A challenge was a challenge, Callen nodded. Sam took the phone and dialled another number. Eric, he said handing the phone back.

Eric was easy. Callen grinned. Eric had plans for morning, and afternoon and evening. Eric had uncles and aunts and cousins. Eric was going to say no.

A strange voice answered the phone which Callen assumed was Mrs Beale. "Merry Christmas, can I speak to Eric please." Callen waited patiently for Eric to come to the phone.

"Eric, its G."

"I can come in. No problem. I can be there is 30 minutes."

"It's not about work."

"Oh."

Callen could feel the disappointment thru the line and felt better about interrupting Eric's day with his family. "Look I'm having some people around for dinner. I wondered if you wanted to come."

"Oh, I've eaten, mum does this really big meal and then later we eat desert."

"Deeks is dropping by and so is Hetty." Name dropping was a bit unfair but Callen didn't want Eric to think he was desperate for company.

"I didn't say I couldn't make it," Eric's voice held an edge of panic. "Honestly, I want to come, anything to get out of the house. It's just I'm not sure if I'm up to another meal. Just tell me when."

"Anytime after six, we eat at 6.30 but just come for drinks and nibbles if you want."

"Yeah, great, yeah I could get away later. Sure great idea. Thanks for the invitation. Look if something happens I'll send you an email."

"And Eric, bring a chair," said Callen in a firm voice.

"A chair, I don't think mum would let me take a chair. Would a cushion do?"

Callen agreed a cushion would be fine and hung up after telling Eric his address. Sam took back his phone. "Now that wasn't hard was it?"

Callen walked around the car and opened the door. Now he was seven, plus five. No, the Hana's weren't coming. So that made it seven, plus Hetty, plus Deeks and Monty, and Eric. Hell, he forgot to count himself. So that made, no Eric and the dog wouldn't eat much, so Ruth was feeding... God, would they have enough food.

"Don't forget to invite the girls," said Sam.

"But Nell's out of town and Kenzie's at her mum's," Callen heard the whine in his voice.

"Woman gossip so ring, anyway it's polite."

G wondered what the point was. It wasn't as if Nell's and Kenzie could come. But maybe inclusion was the point. There were times a young Callen would have sold his soul to be invited to play at someone's house. To be invited, to be included meant you had friends. He learned quickly to say no. Friends got left behind with the next move. He was the odd kid with no family. Callen learned not to care and how to mimic the other kids to be considered cool. But being asked, being included, that would have been the coolest thing ever.

"How am I going to fit all these people into my house Sam?"

"Not my problem G. We'll see you tomorrow at twelve, don't forget. And merry Christmas G." Sam waved as Callen got into the car and drove away.

The walk down the beach helped to clear his head. He waited a long time before he picked up the phone.

Nell reminded G she was in the Midwest for three days and therefore was unable to come. She kindly thanked G for the offer then spent ten minutes describing everything from the plane flight to the birth of her niece and what her uncle thought of the state of the union. Callen was glad he wasn't paying for the phone call. He didn't need to say anything, just a few single words in the correct spots. Finally she hung up and Callen felt exhausted from the information overload.

Kenzie said flat out there was no way she could make it. She was at her mothers and intended to go home with a migraine. Maybe some other time. Callen was about to hang up when he remembered Deeks had permission to bring his dog so he told Kenzie to bring Mrs Blythe with her if she wanted.

Callen grinned, three invitations issued and three invitations declined. It was a win win scenario all around.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

When Callen walked in, Wade was asleep on the couch and the door to the garden wide open. Callen tried to be charitable because his friend lacked sleep after the fire the night before, but the truth was the lack of security pissed him off. Anyone could have walked in. He told himself that most people didn't live in a world where an unlocked door could mean a bullet to the brain. He didn't want the world of secret police, cults and crimes anywhere near his safe haven.

The aroma of roasting chicken interrupted his rant as Callen realised he was hungry. Breakfast was a long time gone and due to the chilli saga, he hadn't eaten his normal amount Sam's. Nor had he stopped on the way home to eat. The kitchen was crowded with neatly arranged plates, glasses, serving bowls and cutlery. Chips, nuts, nibbles and dips were begging to be eaten. Callen made a cup of coffee and looked in the fridge. The first thing he saw was the deserts, followed by the salads, ham and lots of food which would be noticed if stolen. He quickly shut the fridge door, picked up his coffee and headed for his bedroom before temptation got the better of him.

He quickly found napping was not an option. He picked up a book but found he couldn't concentrate on the words. There were already too many words in his head swirling around. Stupidly he left the work lap top at Sam's place for security. The TV was in the lounge which would involve waking Wade. Callen glanced at his watch. Eighteen minutes had passed since arriving home.

It was stupid, it was irrational and it was crazy but he was bored. On the job he slept in plenty of places a damn sight more dangerous than his own house. But in those situations he was either undercover or had Sam for backup.

Callen pulled open the wardrobe door and stared at his name carved in the wood, Callen 37. He was no longer that frightened boy of 14. He had changed a lot over the years. For a start he owned this house and he was taller.

On his arrival at the house the Rostoff's had been horrified at his lack of toys. It offended their impression of America, the land of plenty. They located a cheap Donatello ninja turtle in a toy store bargain, suitable for a boy. At 14 Callen already knew he was no purple masked pacifist inventor. Hell no, he wanted to be the leader, tactician and martial arts expert so Callen renamed the toy Leonardo. And anyway, a blue mask was way cooler than purple.

He glanced at his watch, fourteen minutes had passed. He looked around the room. He was still hungry. Leonardo would have masterminded a sneak raid on the fridge, except Callen never stole food from the good foster parents, and this house had been one of the best.

"Hey Nate, when I was fourteen I pretended I was Leonardo pretending to be Donatello. How's that for deep. And I'm still wearing masks, great at undercover but shit at reality," he whispered. Of course there was no answer. Nate was never around when you really needed to talk. Except Nate would say, take off the mask, stop hiding. Like that was easy after 37 years.

When Callen moved on to the next foster home the toy stayed. Donatello was buried near an orange tree out back, near food warmth and shelter. Sometimes Callen imagined himself under the orange tree, just laying there in the dirt watching the sky while a young Russian princess played nearby. He wondered if the toy was still there?

Maybe he should go for a drive. Yeah, just two hours south there was little restaurant that did a mean chilli coconut fish. A nice cold lager, a bit of woman watching and he could be home by midnight. His hands were already on the keys before he considered how humiliating it would be to miss his own party after inviting everyone.

"It's another fine mess you've got me into Sam," he said in a soft voice.

People told him a home was freedom, a safe place he could retreat too when things got too much. Where he could lock the doors and be himself.

Except now he was waiting for a party he didn't want to be at, so he could associate with people he didn't want to talk to. It was a lot like living in a foster home all over again. Some Christmas this was turning out to be.

A knock at the door interrupted his inner ranting.

"Callen, do you want to go for a jog."

The words were soft but G was the door in a flash. He put his foot flat against the edge in case Russian ninja turtles were holding Wade hostage. "Sure," he said opening the door slightly. He felt disappointed there was only Wade. Maybe he could dig up Leonardo from the garden. Or Eric might have one, expect then it wouldn't be a toy but a sound financial investment. No one played with sound financial investments. "I could do with some exercise." He was starting to lose reality. "Where's Ruth?"

"Asleep at our place, meet you outside."

Callen locked up the house and left the oven turned on low. They started slow but soon their feet were pounding the pavement. Wade ran for pleasure, Callen ran for survival. As jogging buddies they were fairly evenly matched.

They stopped at the park fountain dripping with sweat. By mutual agreement they walked along the path to bring their breathing under control.

A ball bounced towards them, a child close behind. Wade leaned down, picked up the ball and threw it back.

"Have you got kids?" Callen recognised Mr Harper pushing his daughter on the swing. He wondered what time Santa had finally delivered the presents.

"Two I know about, probably got more I don't know about."

"How could you not know?" Callen turned and stared at his friend.

"When I was on the road I would smoke some dope, drink the booze, party all night then move on in the morning. I probably wasn't as careful as I should have been." They walked a few more paces.

"Don't you care?" Callen wasn't sure how he felt about this information. He remembered too many foster homes with unwanted children.

"I've been married twice and I'm a shit husband. I'm a shit father too. I have two boys and a girl to my name, and I know for a fact one of the boys isn't mine. I was young and stupid, now I'm old and stupid."

"What was it like when you were young?"

"Hell, boy bands are chick magnets. Even the ugly ones get laid. During my Asaka days I thought I was god's gift to the female sex. Jimmy, or was it Lee, got this great idea we should all donate our sperm in three different countries. You know, go forth and multiply. Later after the band broke up and my second divorce, I got myself a health check, froze some of my sperm and got myself fixed."

Callen winced at the thought. "Does Ruth know?"

"Yeah, when I started teaching this pregnant student turned up on the doorstep and said I was the father. Even after a doctor proved I was shooting blanks Ruth still looked at me like I was scum. So what about you, any kids?"

"No kids, no marriage either." Callen watched a toy plane dip in the air. "The closest I got was a pretend marriage for five months undercover. I thought I had a child once, he looked like me but the lady said he wasn't mine."

"DNA tests are cheap."

"She's a good mum and I checked out the partner. They do alright. It's a better life than I can provide. I've got their names and social security numbers, and I go past once a year. Sometimes at Christmas I think it would be nice to have a kid and be like normal people."

"You could get married. Even batman has a girlfriend."

"Stay out of my love life Wade."

"Or boyfriend. I'm making no judgements."

"Wade! I'm warning you." They had almost circled the small park back to the fountain. "I always wanted one of those when I was a kid," said Callen nodding towards the plane.

"One year my dad brought me the latest remote toy car," Wade said. "I must have been ten. It was so cool. But Dad said it was too expensive and made me put it away. Later at the park, dad played with it for an hour and a half while I just sat and watched. They never were my presents, they were always his. I never got any toy until he was finished playing with it."

"Is he still alive," asked Callen.

"Last year, I earned close to half a million dollars. On my birthday he still sends me a $50 gift voucher from Walmart, every single bloody year. No phone call, no card, and not even an email. This year I gave it to the cleaner. You aren't the only one with a shitty childhood G."

By mutual agreement they turned for home and just ran in silence.

Xxxxx

Another shower, a change of clothes and he was ready to go. When it got dark Callen pulled the curtains and turned on the lights. As Callen munched on crackers and dip he had to admit the house looked good. Someone had vacuumed while he was out. Even the Christmas tree sparkled.

Callen's table folded out into six settings. A second table was carried across and pushed against his. It wobbled a little and both tables weren't the same height but covered with the blue table cloth, who cared. It had been decided to place the third table against the wall so people could help themselves to food. The third table currently held drinks, glasses, plates and tableware. Wade and Sam's chairs were scattered around the room for people to sit on.

The bathroom had a clean towel, soap and toilet paper. Yeah the place looked good and Callen was ready to party. All they needed now was the people.

Callen frowned. What if no one turned up? Should he ring Eric and Marty and remind them? Would it sound desperate? Callen looked at his watch.

"What if people are late," said Callen as Ruth carried a container of juice into the room.

"Then I'll delay the vegetables," she said in passing. She looked calm as she disappeared back into the kitchen. Callen poured himself a beer and stuffed some potato chips into his mouth and told himself not to overeat before dinner. Keep calm he thought, there was plenty of time to panic.

Xxxxx

"Get the door," yelled Wade, the sound of the doorbell echoing through the room.

"They are your friends," replied Callen.

"It's your house," Wade walked out of the kitchen area beer in hand.

Callen sighed and walked to the door.

"Is Ruth here?" The woman was tall, thin and dressed completely in black. The only break in colour was her red nails and silver jewellery.

"Yes, come in," said Callen and opened the door wider.

"Zoe." She leaned over and peered thru her glasses. "Your lemon is merging with your turquoise. You need to be careful of that, for a moment I thought you were a liar and a cheat."

Callen blinked, Zoe he recalled was listed as an interior designer. "Right I will," he said in a serious tone.

Zoe straightened, "Ruth's in the kitchen I suppose," she said and walked past.

Callen heard 'darling' and 'merry Christmas' echo from behind. As he closed the door he noticed another person heading towards the house.

"Hello, I thought I saw Zoe come this way, you have the look. My names Max." He had a box under his arm.

Callen introduced himself and shook hands. The man's grip was firm and strong.

"Is she always like that?" Callen stood back to let Max in.

"She's into woo woo stuff you know. Zoe reads your aura and then creates an interior design. She's very in demand in the artsy crowd, booked months ahead." Max walked over to the drinks table and poured himself a coke. "Thanks for letting us use your place for our merry little get together. I'm a manager at the postal service, by the way."

"Federal agent, NCIS," said Callen. "It's sort of like the military police."

"We used to ship a lot of mail for the military, now it's all Skype and internet. People don't even send Christmas cards anymore."

Callen wondered where Wade and Ruth had got to. Probably hiding in the kitchen, he thought.

It was 6.28 and already too many strangers in the house expecting small talk. But where was everyone else? Ruth had said the meal was flexible. He hoped flexible did not mean burnt.

He was in the middle of a discussion about police dogs in the mailroom when the doorbell rang again.

Deeks stood on the doorstep with Monty. Both had been bathed and brushed and Deeks had jeans on. Marty grinned, "Thanks for the invite. Monty was really excited about coming." In one hand he had a bucket of KFC and a dog lead, and in the other a folding chair.

"I put a rope and a water bowl in the yard," said Callen thinking that maybe Monty was more excited about the bucket of KFC within sniffing distance than the party. "Make sure he behaves. And thanks for coming on such short notice."

"You know me, not a lot going on," Deeks tugged on the lead and walked eagerly into the house.

Lair, thought Callen. Deeks was a people person. He had the ability to fit in anywhere and work a room full of people like a pro. People liked Deeks and they talked in his presence. That ability made him an excellent undercover agent.

Martin, he had to remember to call him Martin.

"Thanks anyway,' said Callen moving towards the side doors. He had a friend and his name was Martin.

They took Monty outside then went back to the kitchen to drop off the KFC bucket.

"Wow," said Deeks eyeing the food. "You should have said it was a classy meal. I would have brought shrimp." Deeks looked into the oven, letting out the aroma of cooking meat. "I'm in love," he said clutching his heart and turning towards the women. "Whoever you are, let's runaway and get married in Vegas."

"Ruth, Zoe meet Martin, a work college," said Callen. Ruth laughed and shooed them away.

Xxxxx

Monty growled at Callen then wagged his tail. Callen gave the dog a push with his foot to shut him up. Twice Callen had put Monty in the yard, and twice a well meaning person let him lose. Monty would press his nose to the window, whine softy and look pathetic. Even the dogs were actors in LA.

"He's cold," said Zoe.

"He's wearing a fur rug," said Callen and pushed the dog back outside. "You better not have fleas Monty. Now be a good dog and stay out here." Monty reappeared next to the Christmas tree.

"Deeks," hissed Callen. "Do something about your dog."

Marty stopped talking and glanced over, "shit." He grabbed Callen's arm and dragged him in to the hallway. "We have a problem, Monty smells drugs."

"I thought he was bomb dog."

"He is, but Monty was a drugs dog first. He failed the course so they gave him a second chance. Anyway that's his find signal," said Deeks. "Either that woman has drugs in her handbag or a bomb. After talking to her I vote we go for the drugs option first," he added. "Monty won't shut up until we search her handbag."

Callen closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the wall. Why me he thought.

"Or I could put Monty in the car and we could forget about the whole thing," offered Deeks.

"No," said Callen. "We search on case it's a bomb. Just don't make a scene."

Callen separated Zoe from the crowd, Deeks discreetly picked up the handbag and Monty followed everyone into the bathroom.

Zoe was taken by surprise."What the hell..."

"LAPD madam, this is a drugs bust," said Deeks in his, trust me I'm a cop voice.

"Don't be ridiculous, you don't have the authority." Zoe made a snatch for her handbag and missed.

"I have the permission of the owner," Deeks looked at Callen who nodded. "That makes it legal madam."

"You touch me and I'll scream," she threatened backing up.

Monty barked twice at the sudden movement then sat and wagged his tail looking from Deeks to Callen.

"Give me that." Callen grabbed the handbag from Deeks and upended it onto the bench. He couldn't believe the amount crap that fell out.

"This is an illegal search. And that's for medical purposes," she said when Callen found a small plastic bag of grass.

"You have two seconds to tell me your medical conditions or..."

"Depression, I'm stressed, I need it for work."

Callen throw the small plastic bag into the toilet and flushed. Monty scrambled across the floor to watch the plastic bag swirl down the drain. He stopped at the bench for a quick sniff then trotted to the closed door and whined. Drug seizure over, thought Callen.

"You can't do that. I want your badge number. This is harassment."

"This is my house and for future reference I suggest you leave any drugs in the car." Callen stuffed everything back into the bag and handed it back to Zoe. "What part of LAPD did you not understand?" He opened the door and found Ruth standing on the other side.

"Is everything alright? I heard the dog bark." Ruth looked at a clearly upset Zoe standing between two intimidating men.

"Everything's fine, just a misunderstanding," said Callen with a calm smile.

"Yeah, fine." agreed Deeks and started down the hallway one hand holding Monty's collar. "No problems here."

"These bastards stole my drugs." Zoe burst into tears. "I want you to call the police immediately. And I want his badge number."

"They are the police," stressed Ruth and signalled Callen to leave. "Come on Zoe; let's find you something to eat."

At the mention of food Zoe wailed even louder which attracted the attention of the guests. Everyone was staring. So much for keeping the whole situation discreet thought Callen.

"Don't ever bring that damn dog to one of my parties again," he whispered at Deeks.

Xxxxx

Callen looked at his watch, still no sign of the boss. The whole invitation saga had started with Hetty and now she was a no show. He should have stuck to the original plan to go to the beach, except he was enjoying himself. Just a little bit.

Callen looked at the punch. He couldn't remember where he had left his beer and he didn't want a wine. He took a sip. The punch was full of fruit, full of flavour and had no alcohol. Ruth had stressed no alcohol, ever, on threat of death. The slices of orange and lemon floating on top were from his garden. It was great, the best punch he had ever tasted. He wished Sam was here. He drank it down and poured himself another. He needed to make sure Deeks tasted it.

Xxxxx

"I'm sorry I'm late but Mum said it was rude to leave before Uncle Ben passed out on the couch." Eric had a folding beach chair, a box of chocolates and a large plastic bowl with what looked like pie.

"Don't worry, we're still waiting for Erin and Luke to arrive," said Callen.

Eric looked at the room and blinked. "Wow, there are people here. I mean people I don't know here."

"Yeah," said Deeks. "Who would have thought, Santa brought Callen some non work friends for Christmas." Deeks grinned and took the pie off Eric.

One look at Callen and Eric's laugh turned into a cough. "So have I missed anything?"

"Only the drugs bust," said Deeks. "Come on lets drop this off at the kitchen and I'll full you in."

xxxxx

"I couldn't help noticing your goat," said Max looking at the wall where Wade had hung Callen's Christmas gift on an old picture hook. "I'm kind of envious. I've got the ducks, chickens, rabbits and shares in a cow. This year I got two clean waters and four solar lanterns. Oh, and a couple of soccer balls so I guess I can't complain."

Callen gave the man a 'what the fuck look', his mind on something else.

"Your World Vision goat, you know the picture," he said pointing.

"Ohh," said Callen staring at Deeks gift. "It's my first, Martin brought it for me."

Max reached up and took the picture off the wall, flipping it over to reveal the back where a receipt was taped. "A goat on your first gift, hey that's great. Is it a one off or do you intend to start a collection?"

Callen read the words. Originally he had thought Deeks had left the receipt with the gift by mistake. The sort of stupid thing he expected Martin to do. But the real gift was the receipt and the promise to change the life of, not just one person, but a whole family.

"I don't know, I'll have to do some research," he said vowing to check out the website.

Max replaced the picture. "I know people who collect the whole farmyard. Others collect the education stuff, you know teachers, books etc. I'm thinking of extending out to micro loans myself. It will give my friends a chance to buy something different. But I must admit, I really like the picture. I wonder where he got it."

Maybe not such a stupid gift after all thought Callen sending Max in Martins direction.

xxxxx

"Maybe you should phone your friends, find out where they are." It was quarter to and it was time to get started.

"Already done, Wade left a message with your address. Don't worry; they can grab a plate when they arrive. There should be plenty left over. Maybe you could carve the ham?"

Callen blinked, "doesn't Wade want to do that."

"Wade? That man could cut himself with a blunt knife, so go ahead." Ruth started tipping water out of the pots and putting vegetables into bowls. The room filled with stream and heat.

Callen took the knife, frowned at how blunt it was and began carving. "I can sharpen your knifes if you want, you only need to ask." He put the knife down, searched in the draw and pulled out one of his own. It wasn't an official carving knife but it sliced through the meat like butter.

Ruth placed a large platter in front of Callen. "Zoe says she sorry. She lives on this stupid diet and uses the drugs as an appetite suppressor." She started arranging roasted vegetables on the platters. "I know it's not an excuse but I said I would talk to you."

"Why?" The meat was piling up fast. Callen tried to judge how much he should actually cut.

"I said if you didn't want Zoe here then she has to go home. It's your home and I don't want you feeling uncomfortable around her." Ruth picked up a piece of warm ham and popped it into her mouth.

"She's your friend."

"It's your house," said Ruth. "I promise she won't cause problems. I told her she better keep her mouth shut about you and Martin or we won't be friends anymore. But she's under a lot of stress at work. I know it's not much of an excuse, but..."

"Ruth, it was nothing, less than nothing. Trust me, a $100 fine or six months in jail isn't even worth my time to do the paperwork." Callen picked up some ham and had a taste. It flavour exploded in his mouth. "My boss would give me a lecture on wasting my time on something so minor. Still she needs to be careful, it's a dangerous habit and suppliers can't be trusted."

"So she can stay?"

"Yeah, just tell her she had better watch her driving or the Highway Patrol will be scrapping her dead body off the road." Callen turned and pointed the knife in Ruth's direction. "And to stay away from any military personal, or terrorists, or I'll she'll see the black in my aura when I arrest her skinny arse."

"Thanks, I'll tell her." Ruth leaned over and hugged G. It felt good. "Right, that enough ham, now start carving the chicken." She switched the platters and began putting stuffing around the edges. "Word of warning, if you ever catch Wade with drugs, feel free to arrest the bastard and drag his useless body to jail."

"Talking about me love," Ruth jumped as Wade walked into the kitchen. "Erin and Luke are here so you can start serving if you want." He handed over a glass of wine.

Ruth drank half and sighed. "Thanks, I needed that. Start carrying plates and tell people to grab a seat." She put the wine glass on the windowsill and handed the meat platter to Wade.

xxxxx

Because space at the table was tight, the NCIS team grabbed one end of the table and lined up behind everyone else to collect food. Callen went first and piled his plate high. He gave the tongs to Deeks who did the same. Eric went last. Wine, gravy and cranberry sauce was passed around.

Luke poured wine for those that wanted it stating he needed people's opinions. He worked for a wine import export company. His contribution to the party was a box of samples. Callen considered hiding some of the bottles of specialist beers for Sam. Erin was introduced as a nurse working at the university and was nominated the sober driver.

Callen was choosing his second helping when the doorbell rang. He looked at his plate, looked at the door then pointed the tongs at Deeks.

"Why me?" said Deeks. "Eric's finished eating."

Callen just pointed the tongs, "Because it might be a ninja."

Deeks muttered under his breath, stood up and walked to the door. "Kensi I didn't think you were coming."

Callen sighed and put down his plate. Truth was he had expected the new arrival to be Hetty. No such luck.

"Everyone, this is Kensi and her mum, Mrs Blye," said Deeks.

Kensi gave Deeks a soft punch, "Julie Feldman, idiot. Not Mrs Blye."

"But she's your mum isn't she."

Callen walked forward and held out his hand, "Welcome to my house Ms Feldman, I'm Agent Callen, Kensi's boss." They had met before but Callen wasn't sure if she remembered.

"Hello, please call me Julie." The smile didn't reach Julie's eyes.

Callen introduced the people at the table. Julie said she wasn't hungry so Deeks poured a glass of wine while Callen seated Julie at the other end of the table between Zoe and Luke. Kensi went to the kitchen, came back with a cup of coffee and told Eric to go find another seat. Conversation slowly returned.

"Good stuff this," she said nodding at the coffee.

"I thought you had a migraine," said Callen as he resumed eating.

"I do," said Agent Blye. "But she insisted, so here we are. Hey, is that my fruit bowl?"

"Yeah," said Callen. "But it's more of a chocolate bowl at present."

Kensi stood, walked over to the bowl and brought back a handful of chocolates which she arranged into a neat pattern on a plate. "Shut up you," she said looking at Deeks. "Everyone knows calories don't count on Christmas day." She unwrapped a chocolate, popped it into her mouth and chewed with pleasure.


	5. Chapter 5

The noise level rose as people finished their meals.

"Wow, that's really Wade Devon. He's the drummer from that band..." Eric kept his voice low and leaned in close to Callen.

"Asaka," supplied Callen still thinking about one more slice of chicken with sweet potato. "Go ask him about surf music Eric."

"Do you think I should? I mean, I'm a nobody."

Callen turned and stared at Eric. "You are my friend Eric and that makes you somebody. On Christmas day you can damn well ask Wade anything you want. He's a big boy now, I'm sure he can make his displeasure known if it's too personal."

Eric drew back, "I would never cross personal boundaries. I've been to comic con you know."

"If you want to talk to him go ahead Eric, you don't need my permission."

"Thanks," he said and started playing musical chairs as he worked his way down the table.

Aware that desert was still sitting in the kitchen Callen rejected the idea of more chicken. Hw stacked his empty plate on other plates. Careful not to be dragged back into the merriment, he began to carry things thru to the kitchen. Ignoring the dishwasher he filled the sink with water and started to clean. Since childhood he found putting his hands in warm soapy water restful.

Luke came in and leaned against the counter, wineglass in hand. "You don't have to, you know. The women normally do that or Wade will pay some students to clean up tomorrow. He's rolling in money."

"It's my house," said Callen picking up the dish mop and plunging it into the water.

"Of course it is darling," said Zoe walking into the room. "It's like that song. God I love this kitchen."

"What song?"

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to. Really you are the limit Luke. Don't just stand there grab a tea towel."

With a good hearted grumble Luke put down his glass and located a tea towel. "What's so special about this kitchen," he said picking up a dish.

Zoe waived a hand in the air. "The inward outward flow shows a balance of harmony.

"In English if you please," said Luke.

"Hark you, I've heard you talk about wine. The taste of cats piss layered with the aroma of mushroom. What does that mean I ask you? Have you ever tasted cats piss?"

"That's not the point." Luke looked around for somewhere to put the plate and settled on starting a pile on the bench.

"But you don't say what you mean, you embellish so that only an elite group understand."

"I lived in a house once that reeked of cat pee." Callen didn't know why he said it. The words popped out. There were eight cats, three children and a large woman who would threaten him with a wooden spoon if he skipped school. It had been one of the better homes.

"See he gets it. Now tell us about this house."

Callen released the tension in his muscles and reached for another plate. No one had challenged his statement or demanded he explain. Best of all no one had implied he had an abnormal childhood.

He remembered the social worker had been horrified when she found out. She said it was dirty and made him bath with lots of bubbles until he was clean and smelled nice. The stench from the next placement had been far less easy to remove.

"Kitchens and bathrooms are the hardest place to get right. People either love them or they don't. In this house the kitchen is the heart, the centre. You can feel the love. If you want to spend some money on this place you could triple your investment."

"Not interested," said Callen.

"I bet you're having trouble aren't you," said Zoe as she carried some more plates over. "Are we saving the scrapes for the dog?"

"Why not, there should be a plastic container around here somewhere." Callen was surprised she even cared after the drugs saga. Luke located a plastic container in the rubbish tin which was washed and dried.

"All your friends take you to the nearest furniture store and you can't find anything you want. Am I right or am I right?"

"I've brought stuff," said Callen feeling defensive. He owned a TV and a couch, some chairs and a table. What more did he need?

"I bet they told you to modernise, talked to you about sophisticated man caves and bright colours."

"I don't have the money." He wished they could discuss something else.

"Rubbish anyone can redecorate. It only takes a coat of paint."

"So what is your advise oh great one," said Luke while Callen put fresh water in the sink.

"Time, perseverance and taste, actually people pay me for taste so you only need time and perseverance." Zoe picked the glass off the counter and took a drink.

"Hey that's mine, get your own," said Luke. After a moment he said, "What do you think?"

"Tastes like cats piss anyway, with a citrus after note of course. Where did you get it?"

"I think this one is from New Zealand."

"I'll take six and six of that Australian red. Put them on my account but I'll need them before New Year."

Zoe and Luke started to discuss their plans for New Year eve. Callen listened and watched and added his own comments. Ruth came into the room and started separating the clean piles into what belonged to her and what to Callen. It was an easy friendship. They talked, jumping from one topic to another. No one discussed death, destruction or guns.

Callen looked around the room. The dishes were finally finished. They made their way back into the lounge. Eric was talking to Wade and Deeks had joined them. Kensi was talking to Erin with her mum in discussion with Max. Monty was behind the couch with his head resting on his paws.

"Another wine," Luke held the bottle ready to pour.

"No thanks," said Callen. "I'm thinking of taking Monty for a walk. He's been cooped up in the yard all day."

"Great idea G," said Erin from the other end of the table. "Fresh air and exercise before desert is just what I need. God I love this party."

What the hell, thought Callen feeling the situation had once again got away from him.

Erin stood up and said in a loud voice. "Hey guys, G's taking Monty for a walk, anyone else want to come?"

Callen hung his head, another great plan destroyed by a well meaning person. It took ten minutes for the group to split into goers and stayers. People collected coats, hats and scarves and met at the door. The people staying promised to have desert and coffee ready on their return.

"Want me to take Monty?" said Deeks.

"I'm fine," said Callen ignoring Deeks outstretched hand and clipped the lead onto the dog's collar. Monty clearly wanted to stay behind the couch in the warmth but that was tough. Callen tugged on the lead.

The walk around the neighbourhood was anything but quiet and peaceful. Callen used the excuse of Monty to be in front hoping to leave the pack behind.

"Second hand stores or auctions are what I'd suggest. It would keep the price down."

Callen turned and saw Zoe by his side.

"What about antique stores? My mum loves antiques." Eric's voice came from slightly behind as he caught up.

"Antique stores have great bargains but as a beginner they can be an overpriced rip off. I suggest you start with second hand stores and look for something. Ring me, I'll take you shopping."

"No."

"Go for it G, it's a fantastic offer," said Eric.

A million replays came to mind but they were all rude and brutal but guaranteed to bring any offer of assistance to an abrupt halt. Callen didn't need help. He liked his house just the way it was. "I'll think about it but according to Max your rates are way above my pay scale."

Ok it was a wimpy answer but he was sure on Christmas day there were bound to be rules that you couldn't slap a female even verbally. Unless she had a gun and then you could kick her in the teeth and leave her bleeding on the pavement. He regretted that Zoe didn't have a gun.

"Well of course you can't silly. But I wouldn't take you on your own, come when a client pays me to locate that special something."

"Why do you care?" asked Callen.

Zoe blinked, "because you have happiness in the palm of your hand and you are too blind to see it."

"Zoe, leave the poor man alone can't you see..." Callen stopped to let Monty sniff a tree letting Erin overtake him and join Eric and Zoe. The threesome continued on.

Wade, Ruth and Kensi formed a group and Callen trailed along behind keeping as much distance as he could from the groups ahead.

"Hurry up, what are you waiting for, it's getting cold."

I'm waiting for it to snow thought Callen. I'm waiting for everyone to just go away and leave me alone. I'm waiting for tomorrow.

"What are you doing?" asked Deeks failing behind and waiting for Callen to catch up. Deeks clapped his hands, "come on Monty, come on boy." Monty whined and wagged his tail at the sound of his name then broke into a trot pulling Callen along faster.

"Listening to the neighbourhood and looking at the stars. We don't do enough of that in our job you know, take time to look at the stars." Callen reached down and pattered Monty. "He was good you know."

"Honest to god I didn't think. I mean Monty, he failed drug school. Actually I think he was probably trying to impress you."

Callen smiled, "well, he did impress me. I noticed everyone was sneaking food into his bowl. I hope he's not sick tomorrow."

Deeks leaned over, clicked the lead and let Monty loose. "So we're good?"

Callen nodded, "yes we're good." They walked a few steps watching the others in front. "Thanks for the goat, I get it now. Why didn't you tell me it represented a real goat? I thought it was just a picture."

Deeks shrugged, "I did, but you weren't listening. I thought Sam would clue you in."

"To busy at home I guess." After Dom they all treated Deeks as the youngest member of the team. Deeks was the newest member but he was an adult not a trainee. Callen promised to remember that and not support Sam in belittling Deeks. The man was a damn good team member for a liaison.

"I was really struggling finding a present," said Deeks. "Your life is sort of minimalist if you get my drift. Well naturally Kensi brought the fruit bowl, so I was looking through the internet and I saw this website, and I thought, yeah get the kids in America range for Callen. But Nell nixed that idea, said it was too close to home, too personal I guess. Just as I was running out of time I saw the picture and the whole gift came together." He took the dog lead away from Callen, wrapped it around his hand and started fidgeting with both ends. "Want to know a secret?"

"Sure," said Callen. "Tell me a secret." How could he treat Deeks like an adult when the man acted like a child? The man was so unmilitary it was refreshing.

"That fruit bowl, Kenzie brought it for her mother."

Callen laughed. "Her loss," he said. They paused to wait for Monty to do his business against a tree. "Still enjoying the team?"

"Hell yeah, I went to Egypt on my own. Shit I know it's no big deal to you but I had never been out of LA let alone the US. The team has given me the confidence to just get on a plane and go. I love it. Live your dreams you know."

"Yeah I know. It's a good idea. Live while you can." Callen wondered what his dreams had been. To live past twenty, well, yes that one had obviously been achieved. To have a home, ditto, he was now a home owner. Money, tick, friends tick, and respect he was still working on. What else did he actually want?

Callen shuddered to think Zoe might be right, was he blind to his own happiness?

"And of course Sam said I was more likely to get shot in New York than the Middle East."

That sounded like Sam. Sam had read the Egyptian newspapers while Deeks on leave to practise his Arabic. Every day he would announce, no dead Americans yet. "So where to next, oh great explorer:"

"Oh man, that travel book you gave me is fantastic. I spent last night looking up the web sites listed planning my next trip. I'm thinking of going to Paris or Norway or maybe even China. Then I thought why not go surfing and that brought up a whole new list of places. But Paris has always been high on the list. I just don't know."

"Don't restrict yourself. France has beaches, so does China and Norway." They turned a corner. Monty sped up as if sensing he was heading for home. "I know I don't say it enough but thanks for being on the team and putting up with my bull shit."

"It's a good team, different but good. And Monty says thank you for his doggy treats, don't you boy." The dog gave a sharp yelp and licked Callen's hand.

xxxxx

The house was warm after the cold air outside. Ruth and friends headed to the kitchen to prepare the deserts. The rest lingered in the lounge.

"My turn," said Max. "What do you get if you cross a snowman with a vampire?"

"Damn, I should know this one," said Eric.

Callen waited a hear beat, "frostbite," he said and took a sip of his beer trying to hid the grin on his face.

"How do you even know that?" asked Eric astonished.

Callen looked over at his work mate. "That joke is older than I am." The truth was, Emma told him all the jokes before his work colleges had a chance. Sam never laughed either.

"He's a got a point there," said Max. "An oldie, but a goodie. So who else has one?"

Callen gave up and went to talk to Erin.

xxxxx

"Callen, Wade says come quick. There's a fight in the kitchen."

"Shit," Callen handed his beer to Erin and headed towards Zoe.

"It's Ruth and Mrs Blye." Zoe's head ducked back around the corner.

As Callen got near he heard Kensi's voice. "Mum it's Ruth's house, maybe you should..."

"This is not her house Kensi, and I am quite capable of making whiskey sauce, which you would know if you turned up to dinner more often."

Ruth stood, hands on hips, eyes flashing, "That is not how you make it."

"It is in my house and don't you dare add any more sugar."

"Ladies," said Callen pushing his way into the room. "Maybe we could..."

Two angry faces looked in his direction and he realised the argument wasn't about the sauce but about control and about being top dog. Callen had seen the same look on military commanders who felt their authority infringed upon. He considered retreating but the gap in the doorway had closed.

"Mrs Blye, Ruth is..."

"That's right take her side that is what I would expect from the military."

"Mum! G, mum is just trying to help," pleaded Kensi.

Callen looked across his shoulder and noticed the nervous look on Kensi's face. "Ruth maybe..."

"It's my Christmas and she ruining it." The words you promised hung in the air.

"It's not like she was invited," muttered a voice over Callen's shoulder.

Kensi stood tall, squared her shoulders and looked down at Wade. "I was invited and my mother has just as much right to be here as your friends. In fact I've known Callen a damn sight longer than you."

Callen groaned, this was a no win situation. Standing behind him was a friend and a teammate. One of them was going to be hurt. Various scenarios flicked thru his head and finally decision made, Callen stepped forward. "Give me that spoon and step away from the pot ladies. Yes, you and Ruth, both of you. I'll make the sauce." Both women moved a few steps clearly unhappy. Their displeasure took a single focus, Callen.

"Kensi get me Eric I need to speak to him."

It seemed like ages before Eric appeared, G stirred the sauce to stop it from burning. "I need a whiskey sauce recipe fast," he whispered. "Preferably easy but with a twist."

Eric blinked," ahhh, I don't actually know one."

"Internet Eric."

"Oh, right, be right back."

Eric disappeared and Callen continued to stir. "OK ladies, would one of you like to tell me what's in the pot?" The answer of butter, sugar and egg didn't give G much of a clue but he continued to stir. So far the ladies were in agreement. The sticking point seemed to be, with or without cream and if whiskey should be added. Callen agreed with the whiskey, what was the point of whiskey sauce without the main ingredient. There were no kids so non-alcoholic was a moot point. If people didn't like the taste of whiskey, well don't eat it.

Eric returned, discreetly showed him two recipes and whispered orange.

"You sure," said Callen memorising the instructions.

"I rang mum, she said fruit cake and orange, can't miss."

"Right, the orange tree is out the back, take a touch and make it snappy. The whiskey is on the bench in the lounge." Eric hustled. The whiskey was a gift from Hetty which guaranteed the quality. Eric came back with oranges in one hand and whiskey under his arm.

"Stir."

"Me?" Eric looked horrified.

Callen handed over the wooden spoon, ripped open the bottle then cut and juiced the fruit. He found cream in the fridge.

"Ok ladies are we ready." He took back the spoon and pushed Eric to the side. Ruth handed him a cup, Callen took a sip, announced it was good stuff and poured it into the sauce.

Both ladies shrieked, yelled slowly and peered into the pot. As Callen stirred, the aroma of alcohol hit his nose. Everyone had a taste, even Eric who was standing at his elbow, and pronounced it promising.

"It great," said Callen secretly a bit miffed.

"Hey G," called Kensi.

Callen turned towards the door and a camera flashed.

"Got ya, mum smile."

Callen waited for the camera to flash again before returning to the stove. "Orange juice," he said holding out his hand. The ladies poo pooed the idea, but he wasn't giving in.

"It an old family recipe," he said. "Trust me."

Slowly Callen dripped the juice into the sauce stirring as he went. With the cream the sauce came together and everyone did another taste test. The result proved inconclusive. Callen added a bit more juice and a bit more whiskey then pronounced it ready. Neither lady looked convinced as Ruth found a serving jug.

"It's a bit lumpy," said Ruth and added a bit more cream. Mrs Blythe took the spoon and briskly whisked the sauce into a smooth consistency. Callen poured the mixture into the jug, licked the pot and declared the mixture divinely yummy. He would eat anything leftover tomorrow.

The table in the lounge was full of food once again. Chocolate cake, cheesecake, cranberry pie, plum pudding, ginger bread, cookies, fruit and cheese.

Callen filled his plate. As the flavours hit his tongue he vowed to go back for seconds. Chewing was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Everyone paused and looked in the direction of the door.

"Deeks get the door," said Callen putting a spoonful of gingerbread and cream into his mouth. Luke offered to go but Callen declined and pointed his spoon at Deeks and then the door. Deeks muttered something under his breath and pushed his plate towards Kensi to protect.

The late guest was Hetty and a friend. "Everyone this is Robert," she declared walking into the room. The team stared as Hetty declared they were just passing and couldn't stay long.

Callen smiled and gave up his chair. He could just as easy eat standing up where he could see the table. He watched Deeks sneaking food off Kensi's plate while making her mother laugh. He noticed Wade kiss Ruth while Zoe looked on nibbling a piece of fruit. He watched Eric talking to Luke and Erin, his fork waving in the air, his plate forgotten on his knee.

"The party seems to be a success Mr Callen, congratulations."

"I made the whiskey sauce," he said his voice full of pride. Callen had watched Hetty make her way around the room. With each conversation she slowly edged closer.

"So I was advised. According to Eric, a secret recipe handed down thru generations of Callen's. I do hope that young man has not been drinking too much."

"Eric can crash on the couch if he has."

"And Marty had some interesting tales but it looks like you handled everything. Any other problems I should know about."

"No, the phone has been silent. I'll ring for an update if necessary." He shrugged at her look. "Where did you meet Robert?"

"The bridge club, I believe it is important to cultivate friendships outside the business. After all, these are the people we protect, we need to get used to them."

"Even people like Zoe."

"Even people like you Agent Callen," Hetty took a sip of her drink. "A most excellent sherry, I must ask Luke for the name."

"Even people like you Agent Callen," Hetty took a sip of her drink. "A most excellent sherry, I must take note of the name."

"Take the bottle; I don't think anyone will notice."

"Thank you, I may consider it. I really am quite impressed. I must admit I was a tiny bit worried when a strange woman answered the phone. When you rang back you sounded quite indecisive. Not like you at all." Hetty paused and looked around the room. "But judging by the merriment this party is a complete success. You should plan another party and invite all the people who could not make it today like Sam and Nate when he's in town."

"I think Robert's trying to signal you."

"Don't change the subject. You need to learn to develop better social relationships."

"Why."

"Why, because none of us are getting any younger Mr Callen. You have been shot, stabbed and imprisoned this year alone, the day will come when you can no longer work in the field."

"Gibbs is still runs a team."

"True, but not a special ops team. One day a person who is younger, faster and whose passion still burns bright will take over your team."

"Not going to happen."

"It happens to us all. You need to decide if you can stand aside, change to a more suitable job or quit all together. The choice is yours. Having a social life outside of work makes the transition easier."

Callen nodded, he had worked for enough Government departments to understand the system. "Actually, I never thought I would survive this long." He remembered Zoe's words. He was happy in his job. "I like this house. I know I didn't say it at the time but thanks for making me buy it."

"Then you need to thank Nate, he brought the idea to my attention." Hetty smiled, "I merely put the plan into action."

"Sometimes I think I'm becoming normal, it scares me."

Hetty laughed, "Oh, none of us is normal. Look around you, would you consider any of these people normal. I think the saddest thing in our business is a funeral that no one attends or a person no one misses. I've seen it too often. I don't want that for you."

"Is that what made you quit?" Callen had never had the courage to ask.

"One day you get tired, your body doesn't bounce back the same, you don't want to get out of bed and mentally you can't see the point. I felt old and tired. My friends were dead or bitter and the jokes became black humour. I didn't want to be like them. So I quit. I got out while I was still alive."

"You aren't old."

"Thank you, but the new trainees are young enough to be my grandchildren. My life maybe written in the history books but that doesn't stop me giving my experience to the younger generation. I was damn good at my job." She took a sip from her glass and looked around the room. "You need to learn to glimpse the wonder in the world, something to make the pain of job worthwhile.

"Stop and look at the starts."

"Yes Mr Callen, pause to look up because that way you may notice the person with the gun above you."

Callen sniggered then stuffed some food into his mouth as Hetty walked away to circulate. He noticed Robert talk to Wade intently then Wade start to sing softly at first then get louder. Zoe joined in and people tapped spoons on the table to the beat. Deeks pulled Kensi's mum on to the floor and stared dancing. Robert followed suit with Hetty and then Zoe.

Eighteen minutes thought Callen, before Hetty collected Robert and signalled goodbye. He walked them to the door. Hetty looked happy, he thought as she leaned over and spoke to Robert before slipping into the car. As the car pulled away he went back inside and closed the door.

Callen positioned himself against the wall where he could observe everyone interact.

"Dance," said Kensi hand out.

But Callen shook his head. "Later," he said and watched as she went and pulled Max to the floor. Callen closed his eyes, smiled and wondered when they would all bugger off home.

**I have noticed the time line is wrong with Owen, Nell and Deeks holiday happening much later in the series. I have given up trying to change the story. Happy read. **


End file.
